


Lost: Memories I Made and Made-Up

by andnowforyaya



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Hospitals, M/M, Memory Loss, Parent Death, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: When Changkyun receives a call in the middle of the night from the hospital, the last thing he expects is to hear he's still one of Kihyun's emergency contacts. And the last thing he expects to do is to pretend they're still dating.





	Lost: Memories I Made and Made-Up

The phone was ringing. Changkyun awoke with a start, the buzzing of his phone somehow cutting straight through his sleep and jolting him into consciousness. He turned onto his side and flicked on the light on his bedside table, squinting against its harsh, sudden glare. He looked at his phone.

_ Seoul National University Hospital Calling _ .

Changkyun scratched his head, his brain trying to catch up with what he was reading. Groaning, he answered, prepared to tell them they had called the wrong number.

“Hello?” His voice was scratchy. He’d gone to a party and could still feel the effects of the few beers he’d had, having made a conscious decision before the end of the night that he would not blackout again, thank you very much, and he would even make it home into his own bed tonight. Which he did. He scratched his head again, waiting for a response.

“Is this Lim Changkyun?” the woman on the other end asked. She sounded detached and tired.

This startled Changkyun. They knew his name, so this was definitely not the wrong number. He tried now desperately to flip through in his brain every person he knew who might have ended up in the hospital tonight. Perhaps Soonyoung had overdone it on the shots and needed to get his stomach pumped? Perhaps one of his friends had fallen down the stairs? Perhaps it was his brother? Perhaps it was still a wrong number, and they’d reached the wrong Lim Changkyun, and everyone he knew and loved was fine. “Y-yes, this is Lim Changkyun.”

“I have some news. You are listed as Yoo Kihyun’s second emergency contact. Were you aware of this?”

“Um,” Changkyun said, swallowing hard. It had been over three months since anyone had said that name around him. “I -- what happened?”

The woman sighed. She said, “There’s been an accident. He’s in surgery now. We think you should -- should come down.”

“To the hospital?”

“Yes,” she said. “Mr. Lim, the situation is critical. We think it would be best if you prepared.”

Changkyun couldn’t breathe. He saw Kihyun the way he looked when Changkyun had left him: tear-stricken, guilt-ridden, beautiful. His heart clenched tight as he dug his fingers into his sheets. “Prepared?”

“Yes,” she said again. She seemed hesitant to say it, but Changkyun needed to hear it. “We’ll do our best, Mr. Lim. But sometimes our best is not enough.”

Changkyun ended the call. He called for a cab to the hospital, and stuffed his bookbag with an extra change of clothes and his toothbrush while he waited for it to arrive. 

.

There wasn’t really a receptionist in the Emergency Center, but there was a desk behind which were several harried-looking nurses rushing about with papers and clipboards in their hands, and Changkyun went toward that, shouldering his bag and trying not to look too long at the patients awaiting care in the Center. He almost had his toes run over by a gurney being pushed by a young male nurse, but thankfully the gurney was unoccupied. None of the nurses behind the desk paid any attention to Changkyun.

“Excuse me?” he tried, clearing his throat and raising a hand. “Um?”

One of the nurses glanced his way but didn’t linger as she scribbled something onto the clipboard in her hands. “You’re not an emergency,” she said simply, which struck Changkyun as a little harsh. He  _ could  _ be an emergency. Who was she to gauge that without a full examination? 

“I’m not, um. I’m looking for someone who was brought in? Yoo Kihyun?”

She still wasn’t looking at him, shuffling through a stack of papers on the table behind the counter as though looking for something. “If he’s in surgery, you’ll just have to wait.”

Changkyun wobbled back and forth on his toes. The hospital was bustling and moving and so busy, and everyone here needed something, but he needed something, too. “They said he might not make it,” Changkyun forced out, his bottom lip wobbling and a hot pressure building behind his eyes. He cleared his throat again thickly.

The nurse finally looked up and paused. She tapped another nurse on the shoulder and handed her the file she'd taken out from the middle of the stack she'd been rifling through. “Take this to Dr. Lee in room 212, okay? Then come right back.” The other nurse nodded and dashed off. “Okay. Yoo Kihyun? Let me see…” She bent to type at a computer behind the counter, the keys clacking with each fingerstroke. “Okay,” she said again, looking up at Changkyun and frowning. “You can wait in the room down the hall. He’s in good hands with Dr. Song. Someone will let you know when the operation is over.”

“Down the hall?” Changkyun turned to look. The hallway was long and white and foreboding. The desk was nice. It was comfortable here, and now that the nurse was being nice to him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave.

“Yes,” the nurse said. “Just down the hall.” She made a motion at him to move, which he did, though his feet felt like rocks. He slowly trudged down the hall, shouldering his backpack, imagining that each step he took was a step closer to Kihyun. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Oh and Mr. Lim?” the nurse called out. He turned to look at her over his shoulder. “You might want to try reaching his family. We’ve called a few times but no one has responded.”

Changkyun shuddered, and nodded.

.

Kihyun’s older brother Woohyun was in Japan doing something in the fashion industry. Changkyun had only met him once, over Christmas with Kihyun’s family in the first year they’d been dating. When Changkyun called, he wasn’t expecting an answer, let alone for Kihyun’s brother to have saved his name and contact in his phone.

“Changkyun?” Woohyun answered. “What the hell? It’s like four in the morning.”

“Uh, hyung,” Changkyun started, nervous, chewing his lip. He was sitting in the small waiting room of the Emergency Center, arms hugged around the backpack in his lap. “It’s, uh, funny thing…”

“Spit it out,” Woohyun said. “What happened? Did Kihyun do something stupid?”

“Kihyun’s in the hospital,” Changkyun said quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. He flinched from the phantom sting. 

Silence on the other end. Then, “What?”

“He’s in surgery. It’s serious? I don’t know. They called me when they couldn’t reach you or your dad, I think. I don’t know why. I mean, we broke up ages ago? But I’m here at Seoul National and um, they said it’s serious and you should probably come. Or not. But you should probably come.”

“Shit,” Woohyun said. “Shit, shit, shit. Okay, I’m coming. I’ll book the first flight I can. I’ll call our dad. Shit. He’s in Europe. Um, okay. Hey, Changkyun?”

“Yeah?”

“I still kind of fucking hate you for what you did, but thank you for calling me. And for going to the hospital. Okay?”

“Okay,” Changkyun said. The hot pressure was building behind his eyes again. He swiped at his eyes angrily with his free hand. 

“I’m happy someone will be there when he wakes up.”

_ If _ , Changkyun didn’t say, but he thought it.

.

Changkyun wasn’t sure what to do after that. There wasn’t even a working television he could zone out in front of in the waiting room, just the one in the corner near the ceiling showing perpetual white fuzz on its screen. There was a coffee vending and a snack vending machine against the wall, so he got up to make himself a bitter, gritty cappuccino and pulled seaweed potato chips from the snack machine. Breakfast of champions.

Kihyun used to make them breakfast in the mornings when Changkyun stayed over. Simple stews and rice, fried eggs on the side. They’d eat in comfortable silence as the sun crept up and then they’d get ready for the day, Changkyun for class and Kihyun for work, bumping into each other as they brushed their teeth in the bathroom, Changkyun doing up Kihyun’s shirt buttons for him, sharing kisses when the quiet moments weren’t quite enough.

Changkyun sat down heavily in one of seats. They were large, square, and cushioned, and Changkyun was small enough still that he could probably curl up in one of the seats for a nap, but he couldn’t imagine sleeping now. He pulled out his phone and thought about if there was anyone else he should call -- Minhyuk? Hoseok? But he hadn’t spoken to either of them in months and couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Instead, he pulled up Kihyun’s Facebook and Instagram accounts. Kihyun’s Instagram account was locked against him, but his Facebook wasn’t. He sighed, wondering when Kihyun had blocked him on Instagram. On Kihyun’s Facebook there weren’t many posts. Even when they’d been dating, Kihyun hadn’t really been active on Facebook, so Changkyun wasn’t expecting much, but there were a few new photographs Kihyun had taken and wanted to share with the world: the sun setting over the Han River, a single purple flower in a field of yellow, a shot of Minhyuk sitting with Hoseok by the window in a cafe, their faces backlit and their fingers interlaced on top of the table. Eyes only for each other. 

Kihyun found the beauty in the little things. The tiny whirl of a shell on the beach, a perfectly smooth stone, Changkyun’s stubby fingers and nails, bitten down to the quick. He used to kiss Changkyun’s fingers and rub cream on his cuticles because he was worried otherwise they’d peel and bleed. He used to kiss the acne scars on Changkyun’s face. He used to pretend that every single movie didn’t make him cry. 

Changkyun’s face was wet, and his nose was running, and his heart hurt. The world deserved Kihyun, even if Changkyun didn’t. Kihyun had to make it through. He had to.

.

“Yoo? Anyone here for Yoo Kihyun?” 

Changkyun sat up abruptly in his seat, rubbing at his eyes. He didn’t think he’d fallen asleep, but he must have spaced out for a while. 

“Yes?” Changkyun said, standing uncertainly. The nurse looked him up and down, then gestured for him to follow. He shouldered his backpack and shuffled behind her nervously, trying to keep pace with her brisk steps. The room she led him to was a small office with paintings of the beach and ocean on the walls and a bookcase filled with thick medical texts and numerous awards. The name on the little placard at the front of the desk was for Dr. Song JoonKi.

“The doctor will be with you shortly,” the nurse said. She closed the door when she left, trapping Changkyun inside and shutting out all the noise from the hallway. It was quiet for the first time in hours, but rather than calm him, it only made Changkyun’s mind race faster. Why did she bring him here? What were they going to tell him? Should they really be telling him, and not Kihyun’s family? Shouldn’t they wait for Kihyun’s family?

He sat in one of the two seats in front of the doctor’s desk and checked his phone. With a start, he realized over three hours had passed since he last checked it, and that he’d received a few texts. Woohyun had taken off from Tokyo over an hour ago and would be landing in about another hour. He’d texted that he hadn’t yet been able to reach their father, probably because he was in the air somewhere, but that he’d try again when he landed. In the meantime, could Changkyun keep Woohyun apprised of what’s happening?

Changkyun texted him:  _ waiting in the doctor’s office now for news _ .

Woohyun’s response was almost immediate:  _ Have wifi in plane. Let me know. If it’s good or bad _ .

Changkyun groaned and let his head fall back over the seat. The pressure was getting to him. Should he even really be here? Surely, that Kihyun had kept him as his second emergency contact was a mistake. Surely. 

There was a knock on the door, and then the doctor came in. He was a young-ish looking man, probably early forties but blessed with good genetics, wearing a white doctor’s coat and shadowed bags under his eyes. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, revealing streaks of gray at his temples. Changkyun stood again when he entered, and the doctor said, “No, please. Sit, sit. It’s fine. I’m Doctor Song.” He put his hand out for Changkyun to shake. Changkyun took it. “I oversaw the operation. Bottom line: Mr. Yoo is out of the red. He’s strong. We are optimistic he’ll pull through.”

All the strength fled from Changkyun’s knees, and he buckled back down into his seat with a sigh. “Thank you,” he said. “Oh my god, thank you.”

“But he’s under observation for the next couple hours,” the doctor continued. “Now, we just wait for him to wake up.”

“He’ll wake up in the next few hours?”

The doctor shook his head. “The anesthesia will wear off in a few hours. We will need to monitor him until he wakes up. At which point we’ll need to run some tests. He suffered from head trauma.”

“What happened?” Changkyun whispered.

“We’re not sure,” the doctor said. “A hit and run, we think. A bystander called the ambulance. He sustained two cracked ribs, break to the right tibia, clavicle fracture, heavy bruising and abrasions to his right side, aforementioned head trauma including a contusion near the base of the skull.”

All the air squeezed out of Changkyun in a squeak as the injuries piled up. Could someone really survive all that? “Oh.”

Dr. Song looked up at him, sympathy darkening his eyes. “When he wakes up, you need to be prepared for Mr. Yoo to be confused. There may be gaps in his thinking and memory. These sorts of things with head trauma -- we don’t know until he wakes up.”

“I’m -- I just. I need to tell his brother.”

Dr. Song’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not his brother?”

“Um,” Changkyun said. “I’m -- I’m his boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Long story. I mean, anyway. His brother is on his way but he was in Japan so he’s flying here. He just wants me to text him to let him know how Kihyun is doing. So I just -- need to text him.”

The doctor sighed and massaged his temples with his fingers, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do that, and then I can take you to his room.”

.

Changkyun couldn’t believe that was Kihyun in the hospital bed. He looked tiny, paper-thin, and as pale as the sheets that surrounded him. His hair was black now. When they’d been dating, Kihyun had kept his hair light -- pink and then auburn and then blonde. His face was narrow and sharp and his lips looked dry. The whole right side of his face was a bruise. Changkyun felt a sob get stuck in his throat. Even without the accident, Kihyun looked different from the last time Changkyun saw him: thinner, on the edge of gaunt. 

How had this happened? How had he ended up like this? But deep down Changkyun knew. He knew how Kihyun had ended up like this and the role he'd played.

“If you need anything,” the doctor said, “just call. You can use this button.” He gestured to a button on the side of the bed. There were short rails on either side of the bed that looked retractable, as well as a remote tucked into a clear plastic sleeve near the button.

Changkyun inclined his head, thinking about what he really needed. He needed more answers. He needed Kihyun to wake up, to smile at him and announce this was all a big practical joke. He needed Kihyun to open his eyes and say,  _ I forgive you _ . 

“Okay,” Changkyun managed to whisper. The only noise in the room was the beeping of the machines hooked up to Kihyun. A tube in his nose helped him breathe. Wires connected him to a heart monitor. Changkyun took the seat next to the bed and watched the slow, torturous rise and fall of Kihyun’s chest under the covers. There was a big window on one side of the room, but the curtains were drawn. Changkyun had a feeling that the window would only look out at the hospital building across the way, anyway. 

Kihyun’s brother would be here in less than an hour. All Changkyun had to do was wait, but he felt like an intruder, sitting in the seat Kihyun’s family member should have been sitting in. He didn’t belong, not after what he’d done. What they’d done to each other. Changkyun sighed, feeling lost. He suddenly, achingly missed the way Kihyun would hold him when they fell asleep against each other. 

“Kihyun, can you hear me?” Changkyun whispered. “You better wake up, Kihyun. You better come back.”

Kihyun didn’t respond. The machines beeped rhythmically, a sign of life.

.

Woohyun arrived quietly, his hand on Changkyun’s shoulder, his voice echoing in the room. “My baby brother,” he said.

Changkyun stood and guided him to take his seat, flustered. Woohyun looked just like Kihyun, older and more distinguished, a little broader in the shoulders and the nose, but one glance and anyone could tell they were related. “Hyung,” Changkyun said. “You made it.” It sounded pathetic to his own ears.

Woohyun hadn’t taken his eyes off of Kihyun. “My baby brother,” he said again in a broken voice. He put his head in his hands as his shoulders shook. Changkyun knew he was crying, but didn’t know what he could do to comfort him. Woohyun had told him over the phone that he still hated him. 

“Is there anything,” Changkyun said haltingly, shuffling on his feet, “anything I can do?”

“You’ve done enough,” Woohyun bit out harshly. Changkyun flinched, because he knew Woohyun wasn’t talking about the accident. 

“I’m sorry,” Changkyun said. There weren’t any other chairs in the room, so Changkyun hovered against the wall, watching Kihyun, watching Woohyun watch Kihyun. The air was stilted and stiff between them as they waited. He got so used to the beeping of the monitors that he had to remind himself to check that the machines hadn’t stopped without him knowing.

“Our dad is coming,” Woohyun said after a little while. “From Shanghai. It will take him a few more hours.”

“That’s good,” Changkyun said. 

“What I mean is, you can go, now,” Woohyun said. “You don’t need to stay.”

Changkyun bit his lip and closed his eyes. “I’d like to, though. If that’s okay.”

Woohyun’s eyes snapped up to him. He looked like he was about to snarl like an angry dog, but he held back, and swiftly looked away again, shoulders tense. “Whatever,” he said.

It wasn’t a no. Changkyun stayed.

.

A nurse came by when the anesthesia was supposed to have worn off. Woohyun and Changkyun hovered anxiously as she shone a light in Kihyun’s eyes, checked his vitals, and marked something off on the clipboard and put it back in the slot at the end of the bed. “He’ll come around,” she said brightly, smiling at them. Changkyun wondered if it was the beginning of her shift given the pep in her step, because Changkyun was probably going on hour three or four at the hospital now and he couldn't even muster up the energy to pretend to be optimistic. Woohyun didn't look to be faring much better.

They waited another hour in silence, until the coffee Changkyun had earlier caught up to him. He needed to pee. He cleared his throat and said, “I need to use the restroom.”

Woohyun looked at him without amusement. “So go,” he said. “I’ll go when you’re done.”

Changkyun nodded and rushed to the bathroom as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to miss a single moment by Kihyun’s side. Just in case. When he returned, Woohyun went, just as hurried.

That was when Kihyun’s finger twitched. At first, Changkyun thought maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but as he stared at Kihyun’s finger determinedly, he saw movement again. Then, Kihyun’s eyes were moving faster behind his eyelids. Changkyun sat up, alert and hyper-focused, and felt his lungs constrict when Kihyun opened his eyes. Changkyun held his breath. 

Kihyun blinked. He tried turning his head but winced, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, and -- Changkyun couldn’t help himself; it was a knee-jerk reaction -- Changkyun reached forward and took one of Kihyun’s hands gently in his own and grazed his lips over Kihyun’s knuckles. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, feeling his own tears spilling over onto his cheeks. “It’s okay, Kihyun. You’re okay. Don’t move. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Changkyun pressed the ‘call’ button on the side of the bed and didn’t let go of Kihyun’s hand as Kihyun’s eyes moved about frantically, searching the unfamiliar room he was in before landing on Changkyun’s form beside him.

“Kyunnie,” Kihyun said. His voice sounded like rough sandpaper, and it was weak with fear and confusion and panic. “Kyunnie, what happened?” 

“Shh,” Changkyun soothed. “Don’t talk. Don’t move. I called for the nurse. The doctor. They’ll come to help.”

It only took a few seconds for the nurse to return with Woohyun in tow, who was still shaking his hands of excess water from washing them. He rushed to Kihyun’s side when he saw that he was awake, shoving Changkyun back. “Kihyun! Kihyunnie, oh my god.”

Changkyun stumbled, bewildered and torn. But Kihyun was looking for him over Woohyun’s shoulder as his brother tried to hug him without hurting him and the nurse tried to get his brother to give her enough space to do her job. 

“Kyunnie, don’t leave,” Kihyun said over the noise his brother was making. “Please.”

“I won’t,” Changkyun promised. He went around to Kihyun’s other side to stay close as the nurse checked him over. In Kihyun’s confusion, the covers had slipped lower and Changkyun could see now that Kihyun’s other arm was in a sling, strapped tightly to his chest so that he couldn’t move it. She put something into his IV drip that made his eyelids droop. 

“That better, baby?” she said.

“Hurts less,” Kihyun mumbled.

“That’s good,” she said. “My name is Nurse Choi. You're at Seoul National University Hospital. You’re banged up pretty bad. Try not to move unless you absolutely have to, okay?”

“Okay,” Kihyun said meekly.

“I need to ask you some questions, too. Do you want them to be here with us?” She inclined her head to Woohyun and Changkyun. 

“Yes,” Kihyun said. He shifted to look at Changkyun and held him with his gaze. Changkyun gave him the best smile he could manage at the moment, wanting Kihyun to know he wasn’t going anywhere, not when he needed him. Not this time.

“Alright,” the nurse said. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Yoo Kihyun,” Kihyun said.

“Can you tell me your address?”

Kihyun closed his eyes, a wrinkle forming in his brow. He rattled off his address, and Woohyun and Changkyun confirmed it was correct.

“Can you tell me what year it is?”

“2015,” he said.

“And month?”

“March,” Kihyun said.

Woohyun and Changkyun looked at each other, alarmed, but the nurse just nodded and went ahead.

“Can you tell me what is it you do?”

“I’m a student,” Kihyun said, pursing his lips, noticing the look that his brother and Changkyun had shared. “At Seoul National. I’m -- graduating this year?” He didn’t look too certain. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” the nurse said. “I’m just going to talk to your brothers for a second outside, okay?”

She gestured at Changkyun and Woohyun to follow, but Kihyun said, “Changkyun isn’t my brother; he’s my boyfriend.”

.

“It’s not March,” Woohyun said as soon as they were outside Kihyun’s room and in the hallway. His eyes were wide and wild and frightened. “It’s October.”

Changkyun was shaking his head. Kihyun had called him his boyfriend. Kihyun thought it was still March, so many months ago, before -- everything. Kihyun thought they were still dating. It made Changkyun's head spin.

Woohyun rounded on the nurse, who kept her stance open, guided them away from the door and put her finger to her lips to ask them silently to mind their voices, so that they wouldn’t carry. So that Kihyun wouldn’t hear.

Woohyun said, agitated, “What’s wrong with him? What is it? Why does he think it’s March?”

“The doctor said…” Changkyun begin, jumping a little when Woohyun’s wild, intense eyes landed on him instead. Nurse Choi gestured for him to continue, and he took a breath, relaxed his shoulders, and did so. “Dr. Song said this might happen, that he might be -- confused. When he woke up. Because of the head trauma.”

“Did he lose his memories?” Woohyun asked the nurse, running his fingers through his hair quickly and repetitively. “March, March, March...so much has happened since March.”

The nurse reached out a hand and placed it on Woohyun’s shoulder, a gentle move, and Woohyun didn’t pull away like Changkyun expected he would. She said, “We see it a lot in patients with head trauma. Confusion upon waking. Jumbled up sense of time and memories. But it can come back. You just have to give it time.”

“How much time?” Woohyun demanded.

The nurse offered him a closed-lip smile. “Sometimes days, sometimes weeks. The brain isn’t predictable in this way. But we’ll be monitoring him. Now, I need to get Dr. Song so that he can follow up and come up with a plan for treatment. In the meantime, when you go back in there, humor him, okay? It doesn’t do well to force any memories on him. It can sometimes lead to even more confusion.”

“Pretend it’s March,” Changkyun said.

“Just be careful about any potentially new information you may be introducing to him,” the nurse clarified. “It could be a shock to him.” The nurse nodded and released her hand from Woohyun’s shoulder. The boys looked at each other, and there was a low fire behind Woohyun’s eyes that Changkyun could see, smoldering and hot and protective. The nurse left them, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

When she rounded the corner and disappeared from view, Woohyun said, “Pretend you’re still dating.”

“What?”

“You heard what she said. He thinks it’s March. You were dating in March. So pretend you’re still dating. Pretend nothing bad happened. Just -- do it, until we figure out what to do next.” He paused. “Or leave. I can make something up. He’ll find out the truth, anyway.”

“I don’t want to leave yet,” Changkyun said, adamant. He felt a stronger conviction to stay the more Woohyun tried to push him away. Like he had something to prove. “I’m not leaving.”

Woohyun looked him up and down and scoffed. “If you hurt him again, I’ll have your balls.”

.

Kihyun had figured out a way to adjust the hospital bed so that he was propped up at an angle when they went back in. He smiled at them sleepily, the smile a little deformed because of the bruising on the right side of his face, but it was a sweet smile nonetheless. Changkyun had missed it. He took up the space by Kihyun’s left side while Woohyun slid into the seat by Kihyun’s right.

“What did the nurse say?” Kihyun asked. “Can we take this thing out of my nose?” He was talking about the tubes. They were still hooked up to the respirator.

“I don’t think so, baby,” Changkyun said. His eyes flicked up to Woohyun to gauge his reaction. Woohyun stiffened at the pet name but didn’t say anything, so Changkyun put his hand over Kihyun’s on top of the covers, too, sweat gathering at his temples at the audacity of his gesture. Still, Woohyun didn't say anything, and Kihyun began to play with Changkyun's fingers in his absently, without thinking.

Kihyun said, “It tickles.”

“I’d rather it tickle a little and you breathe,” Changkyun said plainly. Kihyun pouted. He shouldn’t be able to be so cute when strung up to all these machines looking pale and small and broken in a hospital bed, but he did. That was Kihyun.

Woohyun shifted forward in his seat. “How are you feeling, hm?”

Kihyun tried to turn to face him but grimaced. “Tired,” he said. “Confused. But mostly tired.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Kihyun thought, his gaze traveling up to stare at a blank spot above him as he did so. “Um,” he began slowly, as though he were afraid of giving the wrong answer. “I remember talking to Minhyuk. About the party. For Hoseok. It’s this weekend. It’s going to be a surprise.” He tried to look between them both, worried. He frowned. “I’m going to miss it, aren’t I?”

Changkyun’s hand tightened over Kihyun’s. He wanted to tell him that, no, he wasn’t going to miss it, though he was going to be a little late because they’d gotten carried away with each other when getting ready and had had to shower and dress again before going. He wanted to tell him that he’d gotten Hoseok an amazing, thoughtful present -- a dance class with a choreographer that Hoseok had always wanted to work with. He wanted to tell him that the party had been so much fun, so great, and they’d kissed all night and been surrounded by friends and love. He wanted to tell him that it was one of the last times they’d been truly happy together, because after that, after the party, things changed. 

Changkyun said with a chuckle, “We’ll see. Maybe we can bring the party here, instead.”

“That doesn’t sound very fun,” Kihyun said, his words slurring a bit. His eyelids were drooping even more, but he was fighting hard to stay awake.

“It’ll be fun because of you,” Changkyun whispered, rubbing the back of Kihyun’s hand with his thumb.

Kihyun said, “My boyfriend is so cheesy,” to his brother. 

Woohyun nodded and grinned. “He sure is,” he said stiffly.

“Where’s Dad?” Kihyun mumbled. “And Mom?”

“Oh,” Woohyun said, pulling back. “He’s -- they’re. On their way.”

Kihyun grinned and closed his eyes. “They’ll be here when I wake up?” Woohyun didn’t answer, and after a few deep breaths Kihyun fell asleep with a smile on his face.

A few minutes passed. Changkyun could sense the change in Woohyun, in the grief that took him over and spread from him in waves, like the epicenter of an earthquake. It was tangible, starting with the shaking of his shoulders. Changkyun braced himself. 

“I can’t,” Woohyun said, hunched over in his seat, face in his hands. “I can’t do this. He doesn’t know -- about mom.” He sniffed, a wet, awful noise in the otherwise still room. 

“We can pretend--”

“I can’t pretend,” Woohyun said quietly. “She’s dead. It’s been months but it’s still so -- fresh. I can’t pretend.” He stood, his face wet and shiny. “I’m gonna -- call our dad. See how much longer he’ll be.”

Changkyun nodded, numb. He’d never been the best around an excess of emotion. 

Woohyun nodded, too. Then with a great sigh, he turned and left the room, leaving Changkyun alone with the boy in the bed.

.

_ “Kyunnie?” Something soft touches his face, traces his brow bone and down the bridge of his nose. Changkyun twitches his nose and hears a giggle above him. “Kyunnie, it’s time to wake up. You’ll be late for class.” _

_ Changkyun groans and rolls over to escape the touches, lovely as they are, keeping his eyes closed as he tries to burrow deeper under the covers in bed. “No...five more hours,” he whines. _

_ “I knew we shouldn’t have stayed up so late.” _

_ Changkyun knows this is a dream, because his eyes are closed but he can still see the way Kihyun sits on the edge of the bed and hovers over him, hands on either side of Changkyun’s form, sees how he bends down to kiss his cheek. Kihyun’s skin glows, healthy pink on his rosy cheeks. Changkyun quickly latches his arms around Kihyun’s narrow waist and pulls the man over him, trapping him between his legs and kissing his face as many times as he can while Kihyun protests and laughs. _

_ “You’re the one who started us watching that drama, you know. And one late class won’t kill me,” Changkyun says, conscious now.  _

_ Kihyun says, “You and I both know this wouldn’t be the first time,” with a smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eye. “C’mon. I’m going to be late for work, too.” _

_ Changkyun knows this memory. He’s played it so many times in his head. The one where Kihyun goes to work and Changkyun putters around in Kihyun’s apartment, imagining finally moving in one day instead of just spending intermittent weekends accidentally sleeping over. The one where Kihyun wakes him up extra early so they can sneak up onto the roof of his building with mugs of coffee in hand to watch the sunrise. The one where Changkyun is late for class and neither of them care because they’re lost in each other’s bodies and souls, twisted together under Kihyun’s sheets.  _

_ Kihyun is a few months into his senior year of college, happily working part-time in a little bakery down the street from his apartment. Changkyun is in his third year, has switched majors twice, and doesn’t really know what he’ll do when Kihyun graduates. All of Kihyun’s friends are Changkyun’s friends, which means all of Changkyun’s friends are older. He’ll be alone, even though Kihyun insists he won’t be because they’ll still have each other. _

_ This is months before Hoseok’s surprise party. October, maybe. A whole year before now.  _

_ They cuddle in bed for a little longer, sparing a few minutes just to be together. Changkyun loves the feeling of Kihyun’s weight on his chest, bearing down on him, keeping him still. He cards his fingers through Kihyun’s pink hair and feels himself drifting again, until Kihyun wriggles out of his grasp and sits up, lips pursed. “Okay, enough of this. I’m serious -- you have to start getting ready.” _

_ Changkyun groans but accedes, letting Kihyun clamber off of him so that he can slowly make his way out of bed.  _

.

“Kyunnie?” 

Changkyun mumbled something unintelligible, felt something wet in the corner of his lips and swiped at it. 

“Kyunnie, you’re drooling.”

His eyelids fluttered open, and with consciousness came an awareness of how sore and stiff his neck and upper back felt. He’d fallen asleep sitting in the chair by Kihyun’s hospital bed, head propped up on one hand. Kihyun was watching him, a fond expression on his face, gentle smile on his lips. It struck Changkyun, again, how much Kihyun's appearance had changed, how pronounced the bags under his eyes were.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Changkyun said, his voice thick. He tried to shake the stiffness out of his shoulders and grimaced at the annoying pain.

Kihyun said, “It’s okay. It looked like you needed it.”

This coming from the boy in the hospital bad. How could Changkyun do anything to threaten that gentle smile on his face? Changkyun grunted. “How are you feeling?”

“Still confused,” Kihyun said, frowning. He dropped his gaze down to his lap, looking small and uncertain. “Your phone lit up with a message? It’s in your hand so...I saw...it’s not March.”

Changkyun stared at Kihyun, unable to move. “Oh,” he said.

“What happened to me?” Kihyun asked. His voice was unsteady as his lower lip began to wobble. “Have I been asleep since March? What--?”

“Shh, baby.” Changkyun stood and pressed himself closer to Kihyun’s side, hovering over the bed so that he could try to loop an arm around Kihyun’s shoulders. “No, you haven’t. It’s, um, I’m probably not the best explain it, but. Shit. Let me. Let me call the nurse. Or your brother.”

He pressed the button on the side of the bed and rubbed his hand up and down Kihyun’s back gently, careful of his injuries. He wondered how long Kihyun had been awake, how long he’d known this was something that was wrong with him. Kihyun wasn’t crying but he was close to it. Changkyun couldn’t imagine how he felt -- waking up thinking it was the past, finding out it wasn’t, knowing he was missing huge chunks of his life in his memories. How would they explain everything to him?

Woohyun returned before the nurse did, slinking back into the room with shame all over his face. He stood by the edge of Kihyun’s bed and held his hand and didn’t know how to answer any of the questions Kihyun was asking, and Changkyun could see the relief in his eyes when the nurse finally returned, this time with Dr. Song and Kihyun’s father in tow. Woohyun moved away. 

“Dad!” Kihyun gasped, unable to hold the tears back. Changkyun rose to his feet and moved around the bed so that Kihyun’s father could take his place by his son. When they embraced, Changkyun could see how wet the older man’s eyes were, but he was refusing to let the tears fall.

“Son,” he said. “I came as soon as I could.”

Kihyun snivelled and nodded, absently reaching for Changkyun’s hand on his other side. Changkyun gave it to him, squeezed lightly to show he was still there. When Kihyun spoke, his voice was thick and wet. “I know. I know you did. Where’s Mom?”

The room was silent. Kihyun looked to each one, and not finding the answer he was searching for, asked again, this time with less resolution, less hope. Changkyun’s heart was breaking. “Where’s Mom?”

Dr. Song stepped forward. He cleared his throat and looked to Kihyun’s father for permission to speak, who gave it. The doctor took a short breath. He said, enunciating each word, “Kihyun-sshi, you were involved in an accident. You sustained multiple injuries and were brought into our emergency center about eight hours ago. I was the presiding surgeon and oversaw your operations. We operated for three hours. We believe you will make a full recovery. I’ve spoken with your father and we’ve come up with a treatment plan, including physical therapy. What you’re experiencing right now is post-traumatic amnesia due to a head injury. You may have gaps in your memory or have trouble remembering new things. But this type of amnesia is generally transient, and it’s likely you will make a full recovery on this front as well.”

“What does that mean?” Kihyun asked, looking to his father with glazed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Changkyun wanted to throw himself over Kihyun, to protect him from what was coming. They could hide under the sheets and block out the world, and Changkyun could continue to love Kihyun just like this, and Kihyun would love him back. “What does it mean? Where’s Mom?”

“Kihyun-ah.” Kihyun’s father spoke quietly, but his voice could cut through steel. He cupped his son’s cheek, the uninjured side, and said, “She isn’t going to make it, son. She passed away in April this year. But she’s in a better place right now. Kihyun-ah, I feel so lucky you’re going to be okay.”

All the blood drained from Kihyun’s face in the quiet that followed. Then, Kihyun cried. Changkyun had never seen Kihyun cry like this before. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks without restraint as his face crumpled. He sobbed until he was gasping for breath, until he was gagging. The doctor had to take the tube out of Kihyun’s nose so he wouldn’t choke, and his father had to lay him back down onto the bed as Nurse Choi administered a low-level sedative through the IV drip. He was crying even as the sedative kicked in and forced his eyes to close, for his breathing to slow. He fell unconscious reluctantly. 

Kihyun’s father stood, but only so far as to sink into the single chair by the bed, his eyes glistening as he watched his youngest. Woohyun had fit himself into the corner of the room, out of the way, eyes wide and haunted. He didn’t look like the older brother right now. He looked to be the same age as Kihyun or even younger, scared and uncertain and confused. 

It didn’t feel right to Changkyun that he was still here, but he knew he couldn’t leave. Not now. Not again. He put his other hand -- the hand not holding Kihyun’s -- on the rail of the bed. 

Kihyun’s father asked, “You took the call? You’ve been here this whole time?”

Changkyun nodded, then realizing that the older man wasn’t looking at him, cleared his throat and said, “Yes, sir.”

Kihyun’s father leaned back in the seat and scanned Changkyun over, his gaze piercing and searching. Changkyun didn’t know what to do, so he stayed still. Was he going to ask him to leave? Now that Kihyun’s family were here, was Changkyun unnecessary? 

But all Kihyun’s father did was nod and say, “That’s good. Thank you.”

.

They asked Changkyun to go back to Kihyun’s place while he slept. Kihyun would be staying in the hospital a couple of days, so it would be nice for him to have a couple changes of clothes, and anything else that might help make his stay more comfortable. Plus, Changkyun could get something to eat, since he’d been here the longest. Changkyun was more than happy to have something to do that was useful. Standing around watching Kihyun’s family grieve for their son who was still alive, for their mother and wife whose passing was still an open wound, was torment. What could he say when faced with these things that didn’t sound trite and rehearsed? 

He hesitated by Kihyun’s hospital bed before he left, stuttering over his words. “Can I--?” he said, dipping forward a bit and looking to Kihyun’s father. Kihyun’s father moved his head in a way that was neither a shake nor a nod, so Changkyun took a breath and mustered up some courage and pecked Kihyun on the forehead. His skin was a little clammy and flushed, and he slept on even though Changkyun’s heart was going a million miles a minute. His father didn’t say anything.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Changkyun said. He wasn’t sure anyone was really listening. He collected the keys that they’d found on Kihyun’s person when they brought him in and made his way out of the Emergency Center.

.

It felt strange to enter Kihyun’s apartment with how awfully familiar everything was, at first glance. Changkyun closed the door behind him and looked to his right, chuckling when he saw the shoe rack he and Kihyun had bought together after one drunken night when Changkyun had accidentally tripped over Kihyun’s old one and broken it beyond repair. The shoes were neatly organized into pairs and rows. Changkyun slipped off his sneakers and placed them by the rack, mindful not to disturb the order of Kihyun’s apartment.

Kihyun had always liked things to be neat and tidy. He cleaned more than any young man in his twenties did that Changkyun was aware of, and actually seemed to enjoy folding laundry while watching his favorite shows on his laptop. His apartment was small, a single studio unit in a building full of them, with a tiny bathroom and kitchen and a combined living space and bedroom. Changkyun knew that eventually Kihyun wanted a house, somewhere with a little yard and enough space for a dog, but for now this was what he could afford for now in the city. 

Almost everything in the apartment was coordinated in color — whites and grays and the occasional splash of red or blue. He’d sectioned off the living area from his bed with a stacked bookcase and dresser, making the most of the space he had. There was a small couch in front of the bookcase, and a little table before that too. There was a television mounted on the wall, and a series of smaller photographs of the beach hanging in a pattern by the window in the living space.

Changkyun breathed the smell of lemon and mint, reasoning that the apartment was probably recently cleaned. Though he’d been in Kihyun’s apartment so many times before, this time it felt different, the atmosphere like everything had been covered with a thin layer of ice, foreign and sterile and cool. There was nothing out of place. Everything was tucked away.

He walked over to the bookcase and dresser. There was one shelf in the case dedicated to cookbooks, another shelf to art books, and another shelf full of little figurines and plush toys that Kihyun collected but would tell anyone who asked they were just gifts he didn’t want to rudely throw away. Changkyun smiled when he saw the little plush of a husky puppy tucked in the corner of the shelf. It was something he had gotten Kihyun on one of their first dates, which consisted of a spring fair and a claw game and too much cotton candy. 

So Kihyun had kept the toy...or maybe he’d just forgotten it came from Changkyun to begin with. Whatever it was, it ignited a small kindling of hope that took up residence in Changkyun’s heart.

He peered a little closer at the shelves. And sneezed. A cloud of dust blew up in front of his face, making him wrinkle his nose and cough. Maybe he was wrong about Kihyun having recently cleaned his place. 

He rubbed at his nose with his sleeve and went to the dresser. There was a photo frame laying face-down on the surface, and Changkyun righted it carefully, holding his breath. It was a simple silver frame, and inside of it was a photo he recognized. They’d asked someone to take it on their one-year anniversary. They were in the park, sitting side-by-side on a bench, the sun bright over their heads and two matching necklaces barely visible around their necks. Kihyun had bought them both the gift as a surprise. Changkyun remembered that day so clearly, how happy he’d been, how bright Kihyun’s smile had seemed, so much that it rivaled the sun.

He sighed, looking at the photo. Then he moved it to the center of the top of the dresser and opened the second drawer to look for Kihyun’s sweaters. They were just where he expected them to be, folded into three organized stacks in that drawer. The first two sweaters would do. He took the top two out, then thought about where he might be able to find Kihyun’s bags.

They were usually in a box in the closet, so Changkyun went to it, opening the door and squatting down to look for the box that used to sit on the floor. It was still there. He pulled it out and found a couple of bags to choose from, deciding on a lightweight, black weekender bag. The sweaters went inside, along with a couple pairs of briefs from Kihyun’s underwear drawer, a pair of sweats, and a few pairs of fuzzy, warm socks. 

Kihyun’s refrigerator was suspiciously empty when opened it in search of something to snack on. He chalked it up to Kihyun recently cleaning out the kitchen again. When they were together, Kihyun did a deep clean of his apartment at least once a month. So C hangkyun stopped by the convenience store before going back to the hospital, picking up rolls of kimbap and some juices that Kihyun’s family could share. These would do for now. 

He tried not to think too deeply on the accident, why Kihyun had been out so late, and why his apartment had felt cold and detached, echoing with its emptiness like a tomb.

.

Over the next few days, Changkyun visited Kihyun in the hospital whenever he could. His father alerted Kihyun’s workplace of his situation. Often, Kihyun’s father or Woohyun were there with him in the hospital, but on rare occasions, Changkyun got to see Kihyun alone. These moments Changkyun came to see as gifts. Kihyun would want to hear all about Changkyun’s day, about how school was going, about what he had for lunch or dinner. Kihyun would muster up the energy for about an hour of conversation before drifting off to sleep, and before he slept he’d always say, “Don’t leave until you’re sure I’m asleep,” or even, “You’ll be here when I wake up, right?” 

So of course how could Changkyun ever leave? He took to studying in the hospital, by Kihyun’s side, and tried to remind himself this would not last. On some days, he could convince himself that he was pretending for Kihyun’s benefit, and on others, he would come to terms that this was a crazy, foolish, selfish thing for him to be doing. Kihyun would remember what happened to them, eventually, and this idyllic time together would be over, like a dream upon waking, like stolen time.

It was fascinating watching Kihyun recover. He had to learn how to move around using a hands-free crutch for his leg because having a broken clavicle and his arm in a sling made it impossible for him to use regular crutches, and Kihyun hated the wheelchair after suffering being carted around for just one day, complaining about his lack of independence when really Changkyun knew he hated being an inconvenience to people. It always worried Changkyun when Kihyun wanted to go for a walk, because if he were being honest, the hands-free crutch looked too dangerous. What if Kihyun lost balance and simply toppled over onto his face? 

Anyway, he made Kihyun keep his free hand on Changkyun’s shoulder whenever they went for a walk, just in case.

Kihyun’s memories didn’t come back all at once, but rather in bits and pieces, with no perceivable connective tissue between them. He didn’t remember his mother’s passing but he remembered the funeral. He didn’t remember his graduation ceremony but he remembered dinner after, a celebration made somber by the absence of his mother. He remembered when he and Changkyun went to try a new restaurant that had opened up by Kihyun’s apartment and how they had both hated the side dishes. 

Kihyun asked Changkyun to tell their friends about the accident and to ask them to visit when they could, because things like talking on the phone and staring at screens gave Kihyun splitting migraines. He was banned from using his phone, the television, and any tablet or laptop for the next few days as he healed. So Changkyun texted Hoseok and Minhyuk and Hyunwoo and told them that Kihyun was doing okay, that he was confused about some things, and that for the sake of Kihyun’s sanity could they all pretend that Changkyun and Kihyun had never broken up?

After a delay of over an hour, during which Changkyun imagined Kihyun’s friends gathering together to plot all the horrible ways they could make Changkyun suffer, Minhyuk finally texted back, “Fine. But we’re not doing this for you.”

That was okay for now. Anything to keep that sun-wattage smile on Kihyun’s face whenever Changkyun visited, and every time Changkyun visited, he entered Kihyun’s hospital room with his breath held, wondering if this time would be the time Kihyun would remember what they’d done to each other.

But a week passed, and it never came.

And so Changkyun visited, and laughed with Kihyun, and smiled with him, and kissed him tenderly, and waited for his time with him to be up as though counting down the seconds to a bomb strapped to his own chest.

. 

Changkyun, engrossed in an article he needed to cite to finish his paper that was due in a few hours, barely noticed when someone joined him at the study table in the lower level of the library until that person spoke.

“Do my eyes deceive me?”

He peeled his eyes away from his laptop and saw Jooheon sitting across from him, looking a little haggard in a big hoodie and beanie covering his dyed blonde hair. Midterms were upon the students, and even though he and Jooheon were seniors this year they couldn’t simply coast through the exams and take it easy. No, firms and companies were on the lookout for stellar students who could become stellar workers. The study tables in the basement of library were all full of students furiously cramming for exams.

“That I’m in the library?” Changkyun asked before turning his attention back to his paper.

“I haven’t seen you in a week,” Jooheon said. He leaned over to rummage in his bag and took out a journal and pen. “Where have you been, huh? You’ve been acting weird.”

“Have I?”

“Weirder than usual,” Jooheon acknowledged. “Ignoring texts, making up excuses not to hang, being all cryptic in your messages…”

“I’ve been busy,” Changkyun explained, knowing full well that Jooheon wouldn’t be satisfied with that response. But suddenly he realized he wanted Jooheon to ask. He wanted to spill this secret he was carrying in his chest to someone outside of Kihyun’s closest friends and family and he wanted Jooheon to know that he’d been visiting Kihyun in the hospital because, in a way, what he was doing still didn’t feel real. And he wanted someone to be on his side when inevitably the shit hit the fan.

“You haven’t been home though,” Jooheon said. “The other day Soonyoung wanted to surprise you with dinner but he said he waited like two hours and you didn’t turn up.”

Changkyun’s eyes widened as he looked to Jooheon to check that he was telling the truth. His eyes were earnest. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“He figured you were going through something and didn’t want to bother you.” Jooheon shrugged, fiddling with a pen in his hands. “You know how he is. My hypothesis is that you’ve dug up some niche interest again and have dedicated all your time to doing this research and totally forgotten about your biology exam tomorrow.” He paused. “That, or you’re dating someone. So spill.”

Changkyun winced, recalling the time he’d gotten really into Greenland sharks and lost precious hours reading paper after paper on their lifespans and mating habits and the like and completely bombed his Chem final as a result. He lowered the screen of his laptop so that he could glare at Jooheon. “I’m actually writing a midterm paper so, um, you’re wrong about the niche interest thing. But I  _ have  _ been otherwise occupied,” he continued.

“Oh? Whatever by?” Jooheon leaned forward on his elbows, eyes sparkling.

Changkyun shifted uneasily. Cleared his throat. “Hyung, you remember Kihyun, right?”

Jooheon frowned, the expression sharp and pronounced on his usually cheerful face. “Of course I do? How could I forget the guy who messed you up so much you were a depressed zombie for all of summer?”

“He’s in the hospital,” Changkyun said, not quite looking at him.

Jooheon’s jaw dropped, and his pen lay eerily still in between his fingers. “Oh shit,” he said quietly. “Is it bad?”

“He was...hurt pretty badly, but he’s recovering,” Changkyun said. “I’ve been visiting him. I was, um, his emergency contact after his family.”

Jooheon made a noise between affirmation and confusion. “That’s...odd, right?”

“I don’t know, hyung.” Changkyun closed his laptop screen completely, knowing he wasn’t going to get any work done in the next twenty minutes. He was almost done, anyway. Just needed to write the conclusion and proofread. “He doesn’t remember that we broke up.”

“Shit,” Jooheon gasped, hand flying up to cover his mouth. “What are you gonna do? What did you do?”

“I — I went along with it? His brother was there and he said I should and — I panicked a little and I wanted to. I wanted to. He looked so lost when his dad told him his mom was gone. I couldn’t add to that? It’s probably stupid because I’m nowhere near as important as his mom but.”

“But you saw him and you wondered why you ever broke up with him to begin with.”

“Yeah,” Changkyun said, exhaling with a whoosh of breath.

“Need I remind you that he—”

“His mom, hyung,” Changkyun said, needing Jooheon to understand. 

Jooheon quieted, his lips pressed into a thin line. He sighed and reached forward to take Changkyun’s hands in his on the table, his fingers lightly callused but warm. “Just. Be careful, okay? You were really hurt after what happened, and I don’t want to see you go through anything like that again. Promise me.”

“I’ll be careful, hyung,” Changkyun promised, though he didn’t see how he could keep it.

.

Minhyuk and Hoseok wanted to visit the hospital. For some reason, Changkyun had become the gates through which Kihyun’s visitors had to pass, and it was Hoseok who reached out to him to arrange it. 

_Kihyun would love if you visited_ , he texted Hoseok. _But please, remember the situation._

_ You’re pretending you’re still dating, right? _ Hoseok texted back.  _ It’s fine. We’ll pretend. _

They wanted it to be a surprise. Changkyun kept looking at his phone to check the time as Kihyun spoke about something funny Nurse Choi had said that morning. He wasn’t really listening, but Kihyun was smiling and laughing and the bruise on his face had gone down quite a bit and he could sit up on his own now without too much pain and things were good. They’d kissed. Kihyun was holding Changkyun’s hand in his in his lap, his pillows fluffy behind his back in the hospital bed.

“And then, she told me -- Changkyun, are you listening?”

Changkyun frowned, startled, and looked at Kihyun. Really looked at him. How his black hair curled around his ears and how the sharp tip of his nose shined and how the planes of his cheeks tinted pink from Changkyun’s staring. He’d fallen in love with that face, was still in love. It was amazing how even thinking about the way Kihyun’s lashes curled could make Changkyun’s heart beat quicker. Sometimes he forgot he was supposed to be pretending. “I’m listening,” Changkyun said quietly, licking his lips.

Kihyun smirked, a soft chuckle escaping him. “I don’t remember what I was talking about,” he admitted. He tugged on Changkyun’s hand. “I want you to kiss me.”

Changkyun leaned forward in his seat and kissed him. Kihyun’s lips were warm and soft and familiar. He sighed against his mouth, and wished time could stop. Wished he could play the last two seconds of his life over and over again: him realizing how he was very much still in love with the boy in front of him, Kihyun asking him to kiss him. He kissed him again, and closed his eyes, and felt Kihyun’s lips form a smile.

Then there was a commotion at the door. “Surprise!”

Minhyuk and Hoseok fell through the doorway, followed by what looked to be about fifty bright yellow balloons tied to a bouquet of white flowers that Minhyuk was carrying. In the center of the nest of balloons was one silver one that proclaimed: HAPPY HEALING! It was so Minhyuk that Changkyun had to laugh, and Kihyun did also, when he saw who had come to visit him.

“Hyung!” he called out in a sweet voice to Hoseok. “Minhyukkie!” He pulled back from Changkyun, smile beaming on his face, and held out his hand to his friends.

Minhyuk and Hoseok rushed to his side, the balloons trailing near the ceiling, and they both very carefully wrapped their arms around Kihyun in greeting, standing by the bed after. “Wow, you look great!” Minhyuk exclaimed, laughing. “Changkyun here made it seem like your whole body was still in a cast.” 

“Kyunnie has always been the dramatic one.”

“I beg to differ,” Changkyun interrupted, holding his finger up and giving Kihyun a stern look. “Who was the one who had me strip naked in the hall outside his apartment to put all the clothes I was wearing into a trash bag to throw away because you found out the theater we went to had once in the past ten years a bed bug problem?”

“That’s not being dramatic; that’s being smart,” Kihyun quipped. He turned his smile to Minhyuk and Hoseok again, who both seemed dazzled by it. 

Hoseok took the flowers from Minhyuk’s hand and put them on the table by the hospital bed. The balloons floated gently near the ceiling, throwing reflected golden light into every corner of the room. “I’m glad you’re okay, Kihyunnie,” Hoseok said, tears gathering in his eyes.

Kihyun’s smile grew impossibly larger. “Yeah,” he said. “Stop that, you cry baby.”

They found some extra chairs and brought them into the room so that Minhyuk and Hoseok could sit and they stayed the hour, catching up on the things that Kihyun had missed over the past week and a half, which wasn’t much. Minhyuk’s office job was boring, Hoseok had gained another client as a personal trainer, and Hyunwoo was so busy with his dance studio that sometimes they caught him sleeping there. But that was what happened when you were passionate about something, Hoseok explained with admiration clear in his voice. 

“What about you?” Minhyuk asked. “You excited to get back to work?”

Kihyun looked down at his lap with a shy smile tucked into the corners of his lips. He said, “I guess so. Maybe it’s because I take pictures for a living, but I keep thinking that I wish I could flip through my memories like a photobook. Figure out the ones that are missing and put the pieces back together.”

Changkyun reached out to take Kihyun’s hand and squeezed his fingers gently. He swallowed the lump in his throat and grit out, “They’ll come back.”

Kihyun nodded, more to himself than to anyone else, and when he turned his face up again that smile was back on his lips. He said, “Hey, we should go on a date when I get out. A double date. You know, like we used to? It’ll be fun.”

Minhyuk’s expression darkened almost imperceptibly, but Changkyun was watching him and noticed the shift. The corners of his lips curved down into a frown that flashed across his face before he plastered on a stiff grin. Hoseok took his hand and gave both Changkyun and Kihyun a sympathetic glance. “That would be fun,” Minhyuk agreed, and though he tried to sound enthusiastic, Changkyun could tell that Minhyuk’s heart was not in it.

Kihyun looked at Changkyun quickly, eyebrows dipped in confusion, and then he turned back to Minhyuk and said, “Okay, I mean. We can talk about it later.”

“Yeah, sure, when you get out,” Minhyuk tried to chirp more cheerfully. 

.

When Minhyuk and Hoseok left, Kihyun was quiet. Changkyun could see him thinking behind his eyes as he sat, his posture slightly slumped. He was still holding Kihyun’s hand.

“What are you thinking about?” Changkyun asked gently. He’d have to go soon, get back to his place and clean up a bit and finish his assignment for abnormal psychology he’s been putting off for the whole week. 

Kihyun sighed, and in his sigh was a thousand sighs. He laid back in his bed and onto his pillow, swinging his gaze around to look at Changkyun. The visit had drained him, but was it more than that? He said, “I remembered something strange. I can’t make sense of it.”

Changkyun felt his breath freeze inside of his lungs. His brain sped through he and Kihyun’s time together at the speed of light, memories filtering through so rapidly he felt like he was experiencing whiplash. What could Kihyun have remembered? Was it a good memory, or a bad one? Where did the memory fit? Was Changkyun’s time up? He felt awful because on the one hand Changkyun hoped Kihyun might never regain his memories of the last few months they’d been together, and they could continue like this for as long as they wanted; on the other, he wanted Kihyun’s memories to return for Kihyun’s own sake. Changkyun swallowed, forcing himself to breathe, and said shakily, “Y-yeah?”

Kihyun’s gaze shifted past him, and he frowned. Was he replaying the strange memory now in his mind? He said, as though reciting from a book, “It’s warm out, spring weather. I know because I remember flowers. But we’re in my apartment. I’ve just cried, but I don’t know why. I’m making tea and you’re on my couch and you’re saying, ‘Why did you do that?’ and your head is in your hands and I think you might be crying, too. But you’re quiet when you cry. I think you always have been. And you don’t want me to see.” His gaze refocused on Changkyun. “Do you remember that?”

Changkyun did. He remembered exactly the moment Kihyun was describing. It had been around late May, and Kihyun had still been reeling from his mother’s death, and they had been trying to cope. Changkyun had wanted to stop by Kihyun’s place to check on him, but when he got there, another man was with him. Another man was leaving from Kihyun’s front door, looking disheveled and full of self-important satisfaction. He’d smirked at Changkyun on the way out. This had been the second time this had happened. Changkyun and Kihyun had fought, and Kihyun had done what he tended to do when things got too heated: shut down emotionally, disconnect. Soon all Kihyun had room for in his body was anger, and all Changkyun could do was form a shell of armor around himself. They’d broken up a few weeks later. Changkyun could still remember the words he'd said. _You're being selfish, hyung. You don't see what you're doing. You don't see how much I've let you get away with. Enough is enough, don't you think?_

Changkyun rubbed his thumb over Kihyun’s hand and smiled, though it felt brittle on his own face. “I don’t think I remember that,” he said. “But we had some bad days, you know? Maybe this was a bad day.”

Kihyun shook his head slowly, frowning. “It feels like more than that. I wish I could remember. I’m sorry I made you cry.”

Changkyun felt hot pressure form behind his eyes. He forced it back with a shuddering breath and said, “It’s okay. It’ll come back to you. And when it does, we can talk about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Kihyun said. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Changkyun couldn’t help but feel he was making a lot of promises lately he’d find difficult to keep.

.

Three years ago, this was how they met: Changkyun moved to Seoul from Boston for school, transferring in his second year, and woke up on his first day of classes and decided he wanted a coffee and a pastry. He walked into the bakery on the corner, a few blocks away from the school building where his first class in a new city would be held, and ordered an iced americano and a chocolate croissant. The boy behind the register had smiled at him, and Changkyun had smiled back, unable to tear his eyes away from the dimples that formed on the boy’s cheeks.

“We just ran out of the chocolate croissants,” the boy had said, pouting a little. “I’m so sorry, but hey, can I let you in on a secret?” He leaned forward over the counter as Changkyun nodded and leaned forward as well, amused and curious and very much endeared. “The hazelnut roll is better,” the boy said. “We make our own version of Nutella? And I have to say, it’s better than actual Nutella.”

“Then I’ll have one of those,” Changkyun said. “What was your name again?”

The boy pointed to the badge on his chest. It was a little gold croissant with the name YOO KI HYUN emblazoned on it. “And you?”

“Im Changkyun,” Changkyun said. 

Kihyun wrote Changkyun’s name on the little paper sleeve he would slip over the plastic cup of iced coffee. It wasn’t until Changkyun left the shop that he noticed Kihyun had also written his number on it. 

.

“Are you positive, Kihyunnie? I mean, I really think you should stay with me…” Kihyun’s father was pacing around Kihyun’s room, and Kihyun and Changkyun were watching him wear a trail into the floor. Tomorrow morning, his brother would be on a plane back to Tokyo, and the next day, Kihyun was due to be released. Kihyun was trying to convince his father to return to work in a few days, also.

“Honestly,” Kihyun said, “I would feel much better recovering in my own place.” He was picking at an invisible loose thread in the blanket covering his lap when he looked at Changkyun and smiled. “Kyunnie can stay a few days, if that makes you feel better?”

“Honestly, son,” his father said, halting in his pacing and imitating his son’s tone. “It does not.”

Changkyun wanted to protest, but he could see the determined, protective light in Kihyun’s father’s eyes and decided it was in his best interest not to chime in. 

Kihyun pouted. “I don’t want you to have to take off any more days of work, Dad.”

His father sighed heavily, approaching the bed and leaning against the short rails, making them squeak and groan. “I’ve already taken them off. I have so many sick days I don’t know what to do with them. And I want to stay. I haven’t...we haven’t spent much time together since...anyway, you need someone with you when you’re released, and Changkyun has school.” His father raised his eyebrow at Changkyun across from him with a pointed glance, daring him not to corroborate.

Changkyun coughed and said quickly, “Yeah, he’s right, Kihyunnie. It’s midterms and I’m swamped. Not that I don’t want to be with you and stay with you!”

Kihyun held out his hand for Changkyun to take. His fingers felt small and light in Changkyun’s grip, and this little gesture stole his breath away. Every day, Kihyun was remembering more, and every day Changkyun was falling more in love. But how many more times would Changkyun be able to explain away a memory of them fighting or crying as just another bad day? How long until Kihyun stopped believing him and saw through his lie?

“Hey,” Kihyun said, catching Changkyun’s attention. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about that. I forgot about midterms. You should focus on them.”

Changkyun’s eyes grew wide. “What? You’re way more important than a few tests.” He hadn’t meant to say that, especially not with Kihyun’s father in the room. “I mean…”

Kihyun smiled and it reached his eyes. He said, “You’re so cute, you know that?” Then he blushed. “Sorry, the pain meds make me loopy and honest.”

Changkyun could feel the blush rising up to his cheeks, making his face hot. His father, incredulously, grinned at them both, at his son holding onto Changkyun’s hand, at Changkyun’s embarrassed expression and the hunch of his shoulders. 

“I’ll leave you two alone, now,” his father said, his voice gravelly with age and perhaps some emotion. There were wrinkles around his eyes, laugh lines, and though the skin on his face sagged a little bit this didn’t make him look old and tired, but rather wizened and kind. Kihyun would look like his father when he was older, Changkyun thought. “Since Kihyunnie is coming home with me, I’ll need to clean the place up a bit.” His father laughed at his own joke, no doubt a reference to Kihyun’s militaristic discipline for cleanliness, and then reached out to clap Changkyun on the shoulder. Changkyun almost stumbled under his heavy hand, but the weight was gone in an instant as Kihyun’s father used the same hand to cup Kihyun’s chin gently. 

He loved his son. That was clear. He said, “I’ll come by tomorrow.”

“Don’t wear yourself out cleaning,” Kihyun called out after this father.

It was quiet for a while after Kihyun’s father left. Warm sunlight beamed in through the window and threw a stripe of heat across Kihyun’s lap. Changkyun was resting his head on top of the covers from where he was sitting in the seat by the bed, and he could feel Kihyun’s fingers in his hair, tickling across his scalp, could feel the residual warmth of Kihyun’s skin under the covers. His eyelids fluttered closed at the tender way Kihyun handled him, his heart full of feeling. This was dangerous. This, for all Changkyun knew, was temporary.

“I love you,” Kihyun said. “I don’t think I’ve said it enough. Thanks for visiting me all the time. I think I’d go crazy without you.”

“I love you, too,” Changkyun whispered, and meant it. 

.

The next day when Changkyun visited, Kihyun was not in his room. This happened sometimes, as Kihyun already had appointments for physical therapy to go to, not to mention more check-ups. Changkyun put his backpack on the floor by the seat and sat down in the cushioned chair. By now, it felt like his butt had worn a groove into the seat. This was his chair. He leaned over to pull out a textbook from his bag but stopped when he heard noise in the hall.

Looking back over his shoulder, he saw Kihyun rounding the doorframe into view, focusing intently on the floor, and he was followed closely by Nurse Choi, who Changkyun could see was trying hard not to hover. Kihyun was using his hands-free crutch, his right leg bent at the knee which was resting on a saddle-like frame. The bottom half of his right leg was in a cast, and the cushion for his knee kind of looked like a bicycle seat, though using the crutch was much less comfortable than riding a bike. Changkyun knew; he’d tried and failed miserably at using the same crutch.

“Hey!” Changkyun called out cheerfully, raising his hand in a small wave.

Kihyun looked up, noticing Changkyun for the first time. This was when Changkyun noticed that Kihyun’s eyes were bloodshot, the skin around them puffy, and his face was drained of color. He didn’t smile when he met Changkyun’s eyes.

“Oh,” Kihyun said, more of an exhalation of breath than a word. “It’s you.”

“Uh,” Changkyun said, taken aback by Kihyun's expression and tone. “Yeah…How was your session?”

Kihyun grunted, moving towards the bed, and Nurse Choi followed, noticeably silent. She didn’t look at Changkyun, even as Kihyun hobbled to the other side of the bed -- opposite Changkyun’s seat -- and sat down on the mattress with a groan. Kihyun ignored his question.

The little hairs on the back of Changkyun’s neck stood up, and his gut started to roil. Something was wrong. Kihyun had remembered something bad. About them. About Changkyun. He swallowed the bile rising up in his throat and tried to remain calm. “You okay?”

“Minhyuk came by,” Kihyun said quietly. His back was facing Changkyun from where he was sitting. He hunched over to start taking off the crutch with Nurse Choi’s help. 

“Yeah?” Changkyun bit into his bottom lip. 

“He said…” Kihyun began, before his breath began to shake. “He said after my mom died, you broke up with me.” Changkyun’s blood froze in his veins. He forgot how to breathe. In his silence, the crutch came off and Nurse Choi left it by the side of the bed. And then she left. Changkyun watched her go, feeling a little bit like he’d been left behind in battle. Kihyun continued, “You broke up with me in one of the hardest moments of my life.”

Still, Changkyun didn’t say anything. He felt like a fish, choking on air, gulping huge breaths of it and unable to do anything. 

Kihyun said, “You’re not going to deny it?”

“No,” Changkyun whispered. “I wanted to make up for it.”

“How?” Kihyun argued, his voice going higher and breathier in pain and turmoil. “By lying to me? We broke up! I almost die and you -- pretend we’re still together -- for whose sake? Yours or mine?” he demanded. He still hadn’t turned around but his shoulders were a tight, stiff line, and Changkyun knew he was crying. 

Changkyun hated himself, because he had caused this. Again.

“Both of our sakes,” Changkyun said. “Kihyunnie, please...I thought...the hospital called me and I was so scared you weren’t going to make it. And then when you woke up, I was so -- happy. I thought we could have another chance.”

“You took advantage of me. You lied to me,” Kihyun grit out through tears. “I don’t think you should come back,” he continued, his words sharp like knives. “Actually, I never want to see you again.”

It was like someone had shot an arrow into Changkyun’s heart. He felt physical pain in his chest and actually looked down to check if there was a wound. He was still whole, but why didn’t he feel like it? Kihyun was still not looking at him. Changkyun wanted desperately to turn Kihyun around and shake him and say, "I love you, goddammit, and I need for us to try again!"

But Changkyun couldn’t say those words, because he was a coward. Instead, Changkyun said, “Do you remember anything about the break up?”

Kihyun laughed, bitter and hopeless. “I remember you said I was a selfish. I remember that clearly. It’s funny, because doesn’t it seem like you’re the selfish one?”

He remembered Kihyun then, a broken boy on his couch as Changkyun left, his tear-streaked face and guilt haunting his eyes. Kihyun didn’t remember he’d cheated. Maybe he’d never remember, and Kihyun would always think Changkyun had made this decision on his own, without a thought for the consequences, when the truth was they had come to the same conclusion together:  _ we have to stop hurting each other _ .

Changkyun had broken that promise himself. He wouldn’t break it again. 

“I’m sorry,” Changkyun said, holding back his own tears, though they were building to ocean-levels behind his eyes. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

Changkyun left. He made it to the bus stop before he began to cry.

.

His phone was ringing. Changkyun groaned, rolled over in his bed, and tried to ignore it. It was midnight and exams were over and he wanted to sleep. Sleep was what he deserved. His phone stopped vibrating on his nightstand within a minute, and Changkyun almost immediately succumbed to sleep in the ensuing silence.

Then someone was knocking on his door. And yelling. The yelling was muffled and the words were slurred, but there was definitely someone out there at midnight who was either very angry with Changkyun or very excited. Or drunk. Or all of those things. 

He groaned again, thinking of his neighbors and thin walls, and crawled out of bed. His pajama pants hung low on his waist as he trudged out of his bedroom and into the living area, flicking on the light as he did so. His place was tiny. Not as tiny as Kihyun’s, but tiny. Definitely not as neat, either. His dad had gotten him the apartment for his senior year of college since Changkyun promised him he would get into and go to grad school. Changkyun’s dad was a professor, so he valued these things. 

Lost in thoughts about his dad and how he might be doing across the ocean in Boston, Massachusetts, Changkyun opened the door.

Jooheon was standing there with his fist raised, and Soonyoung was standing beside him, both of them grinning from ear to ear. Changkyun could smell the soju on them. They’d clearly been drinking, and were dressed to go out for the evening. Clubbing. Changkyun grimaced at the mere idea.

“We’ve made an executive decision!” Jooheon slurred, pushing his way inside Changkyun’s apartment with Soonyoung following close behind. They both struggled to take off their shoes by the door as Jooheon continued, “It’s been two weeks so it’s time for an intervention!”

Changkyun rubbed his eyes and closed the door. Scratched his hair. “Intervention? For what?”

“For -- being sad,” Soonyoung said, hiccuping every few words. “Again. And moping. And getting! Back out there!” He pointed out the window of the living room as if that’s what ‘out there’ meant. 

Changkyun shook his head. “Guys, I’m tired.” He walked into the living room proper and plopped himself onto his couch, and Jooheon and Soonyoung plopped down on either side of him. Soonyoung immediately curled up and latched onto Changkyun’s arm, cuddling him like a kitten would a catnip toy. “I just want to sleep. Let’s hang out tomorrow.”

“Sleepover!” Soonyoung happily suggested.

Jooheon said, “You’ve been sad for two weeks straight and I know it’s because of Kihyun. Again. And we let you mope but it’s enough now! Forget about him! Let’s go have fun!” 

Changkyun sank down into the couch, wanting the cushions to swallow him up. Soonyoung sank down with him. “I don’t want to have fun,” Changkyun said. “And I don’t want to forget about him.”

“Are you still feeling guilty about it?” Soonyoung asked.

Changkyun nodded.

“Need I remind you,” Jooheon began loudly, sitting up straighter and holding a righteous finger up in the air, “that he’s the one who cheated on you? Twice? That you know about? And you were trying to help him with the accident. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Changkyun hunched his shoulders up closer to his ears, feeling small and defensive. He didn’t expect anyone to understand. He didn’t really understand it himself. “I just do,” he mumbled miserably. “Feel guilty. About the hospital. I tried not to think about it while taking exams and that was okay but now it’s all I can think about. What if I had told him right from the beginning that we’d broken up? What if I’d been honest? He said I took advantage of him. Maybe I did. What if I had been there for him better after his mom died? Shouldn’t I have been better?”

Jooheon was quiet for a moment. Then he hooked his arm around Changkyun’s shoulders and pulled him in close, until Changkyun was almost resting his cheek on Jooheon’s chest. It was an awkward position to be in, especially with Soonyoung still clinging to him like a baby sloth, but it didn’t necessarily feel weird. “Listen,” Jooheon said, “you’re a good person. You care a lot. You’re right -- maybe you both could have done things differently the first time around. Maybe things could have been different the second time around. But it’s not helpful to think like that unless you learn from it .”

“I know,” Changkyun said, voice thick. 

But still, they’d been so good together, before everything fell apart. That was what killed Changkyun the most, because he could still remember how good it felt to be in love with Kihyun. It was so fresh in his heart -- the brightness and joy and ephemeral quality of it. It had been the first time he’d ever felt like that about another human being. Maybe, Changkyun thought somewhat bitterly, it would be the last, too.

“Fine, no intervention,” Jooheon said. “But Soonyoung and I have been drinking since our last exam ended so we’re beat and thought maybe we could crash with you because -- oh he’s asleep already.”

Changkyun looked down to the side to see Soonyoung sleeping with his mouth slightly open, and he pushed him gently back until he was horizontal on the couch. Soonyoung shifted of his own accord into a ball on his side, pillowing his head on a throw pillow.

“I hate seeing you beat yourself up over this, you know,” Jooheon said quietly, more somberly and soberly. “I hated it the first time and I hate it, now.”

“Sorry,” Changkyun mumbled.

“It’s not your fault, man,” Jooheon said. He squeezed the arm around Changkyun’s shoulders once in a hug before letting go. “I just love you.”

Changkyun sighed heavily. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

The weeks inevitably passed by. Things returned to normal, or as normal as things could be for Changkyun when it felt like he was walking around with a giant hole in his heart.

.

His phone was ringing. Changkyun froze where he was standing in front of the microwave, heating up a frozen meal for dinner. The microwave beeped as it completed its turns, and the phone was still ringing on the counter, face up, so that Changkyun could see the screen.

_ Yoo Kihyun calling. _

Kihyun. Changkyun’s mind went back to the last time he saw him -- still in the hospital, still broken, his back to him. Prideful Kihyun, unable to turn to Changkyun to look him in the eyes as those words spilled from his lips. Sorrowful Kihyun, unable to turn to Changkyun to look him in the eyes as he told him to leave him alone forever. Changkyun had gotten a few updates from Hoseok, with whom he’d somehow managed to repair the connection they had between them. Hoseok told him Kihyun was going to physical therapy, wasn’t staying in bed like he was supposed to, kept insisting he could do things against the advice of his doctor. These updates always brought a smile to Changkyun’s lips. That stubborn perseverance sounded very much like Kihyun.

Probably against his better judgment, Changkyun picked up. 

“Hello?” He put the phone on speaker, pulling open the microwave door and taking out the tray of food. It burned his fingertips but he could barely feel the pain, so focused he was on the other person’s response. He dropped the tray on the counter with a wet plop.

He could hear Kihyun breathing. It was quiet. Then, “Changkyun?”

It had been a month since he’d heard Kihyun’s voice. Changkyun’s knees almost went weak at the smooth, honeyed tone. 

“Yeah? It’s me.” Changkyun ripped open the plastic cover of the tray, and steam blew up into his face.

“It’s me, Kihyun,” Kihyun said.

“I know that.”

“Oh,” Kihyun said. “Well…”

Jooheon’s voice cut across his thoughts, and the voice was saying, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault. And then it was saying, don’t let him in again. Changkyun tried to ignore it, but couldn’t. He was too curious about why Kihyun was calling him, and his heart felt like it was a little hummingbird trapped in a cage.

“How are you recovering?” Changkyun asked, too quickly to not be awkward, especially with the pause that followed.

Kihyun breathed out, the sound picked up by the microphone. “Fine,” he said. “I just moved back into my place, actually. And Dad’s gone back to work.”

“Oh,” Changkyun said. “That’s good. That you’re recovering.” The steam had stopped rising from the tray, and now that Changkyun was looking at his food, he thought of how unappetizing it seemed. It was supposed to be chicken pasta, but the pasta looked sad and soggy and the chicken was a strange colorless color. He prodded a chunk of chicken with his finger and found the texture to be like rubber. Gross.

“Yeah,” Kihyun sighed.

Changkyun pushed the piece of chicken around in the pasta. It made an unappealing squelching noise in the sauce. He frowned, wondering what to do with it.

“Listen,” Kihyun said, “I was wondering if we could talk. In person?”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

Another pause. Changkyun wondered how many pauses a conversation could take before it should be ended. 

Kihyun said, “I made too much for dinner. Do you want to come over? Just for dinner. And to talk.”

“Just dinner, and to talk,” Changkyun repeated. He took his tray of sad chicken pasta and tossed it into the trash. In a moment of weakness, he said, “Okay, then.”

.

Kihyun buzzed Changkyun into his apartment building, and Changkyun took the stairs one at a time, finding each step he had to take to be heavier than the last. He hadn’t changed out of his sweatpants and hoodie, and was wearing a puffy winter coat on top. Changing into something nicer would have meant he cared, or that he expected something, or that he wanted Kihyun to care, and he wasn’t sure about any of those things. At least he’d brushed his hair.

Standing outside of Kihyun’s door, Changkyun hesitated to knock. The last few weeks hadn’t been easy or particularly fun, but they’d been bearable. Changkyun had resigned himself to missing Kihyun for a while. Whatever they’d done to each other, whatever had happened between them, the short weeks in the hospital had made Changkyun realize his feelings for Kihyun were still strong, and he couldn’t help that. He’d resigned himself to missing Kihyun for as long as he needed to miss him, and then to move on.

So why was he here? Standing outside of Yoo Kihyun’s apartment?

Chastising himself, he raised his fist to knock, but the door opened before his knuckles could meet the wood. 

Kihyun was on the other side, eyes wide and bright and a little worried. “I was wondering if you’d just left,” Kihyun mumbled, looking down at Changkyun’s shoes.

“I thought about it,” Changkyun lied.

“Come in, please,” Kihyun said. He stepped away from the door. He was no longer wearing a big cast on his leg, but still used a crutch to help him walk. Changkyun noticed how he favored his right side when he walked slowly into the little living room as Changkyun took off his shoes. His arm was no longer in a sling, and his face was completely devoid of bruising except for the dark circles under his eyes.

His apartment smelled like savory, meaty, spicy stew. Changkyun breathed in the aroma greedily and let it fill his nose. His stomach growled in response. “Smells great.”

“It’s just a jiggae I threw together,” Kihyun said with a shrug. He turned to look back at Changkyun, who was still by the door, and nodded his head toward the couch. The coffee table in front of it was set with two bowls of rice, a big bowl of stew between them, spoons and chopsticks, and glasses of water. “It’s ready to eat. Do you want to sit?”

“Y-Yeah,” Changkyun said. “Yeah.” He toed over to Kihyun and then past him, sitting down on Kihyun’s familiar couch. When Kihyun sat down beside him after bracing the crutch within arm’s reach against the wall, the couch dipped and groaned.

Kihyun was wearing sweats, too, and a sweatshirt that seemed too big for him. His hair was still black but looked like it had been recently cut, shorter now on the sides than before. He was still pale, and he looked thin, and his lips were dry. “Thanks for coming over,” Kihyun said. 

Changkyun made a noise that was meant to convey something like _ no problem _ but it sounded a little strained instead. 

Silence fell over them. Changkyun waited for Kihyun to say something -- anything -- but Kihyun remained quiet. Why had he invited Changkyun over? What did he want to talk about? All Kihyun did was nod and then pick up the bowl of rice and start to eat the stew, gesturing for Changkyun to start doing the same. The silence became heavier, like a dense cloud, and Changkyun felt like he was suffocating in the fog of confusion and hope.

What was the point of this? Did Kihyun forget what he’d said to Changkyun that day in the hospital, weeks ago? How he never wanted to see Changkyun again? 

“Kihyun,” Changkyun said with a huge breath, leaving his food untouched though his stomach yearned for it, “Why am I here?”

Kihyun shrugged. “I was lonely,” he said, not looking at Changkyun again, closed off tight like a bottle.

Changkyun’s gut twisted painfully as the momentary break in the fog swirled in over his head again. “I see.”

This was the thing Changkyun had forgotten, how Kihyun could shut him out so completely, and how much it hurt. Kihyun was eating slowly and steadily, unfazed, seemingly unconcerned. He had pride like a brick wall. Changkyun couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t be here and be hopeful and sad and too much in love with a boy who told him he never wanted to see him again. He stood up so fast his head spun and Kihyun almost dropped the bowl of rice in his hands from surprise. 

“I think I should go,” Changkyun said. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I should go. I should--”

He started to move around the coffee table but Kihyun’s bowl clattered to the table’s surface as his hand shot out to grab Changkyun’s wrist, and Changkyun froze as though under a spell. 

“Wait,” Kihyun said, his voice raw. He swallowed. “I’m sorry. Don’t go. I needed -- I wanted -- I hoped I could talk to you. To apologize.”

Changkyun’s skin prickled in anticipation. “For what?”

“For -- everything,” Kihyun said, standing slowly now, too. He pulled on Changkyun’s wrist gently but insistently until they were facing each other. His eyes were watery and the tip of his nose was pink. “I remembered. After you left. A few weeks after you left. I remembered what happened after my mom died. I was -- a huge asshole.”

Changkyun’s eyes went wide. “What?” he sputtered. 

“I cheated on you,” Kihyun said. “I was so -- I was so sad, Changkyun. It doesn’t excuse what I did but -- it wasn’t because of you. Okay? And I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say and I was too afraid to say it before when we broke up the first time. I did that because of stuff I was going through and it wasn’t fair to you and I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, okay? It was never your fault.”

Changkyun’s vision blurred. His eyes felt hot and full, the same as his heart, and the pressure remained even as the tears spilled over and left scalding wet trails down his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” Kihyun said again. “I’m so sorry, Kyunnie.” 

Changkyun felt weak from the apology and from the way his own name fell from Kihyun’s lips. For such a long time, he’d thought he wanted forgiveness from Kihyun but he needed these words so much more. He was just standing there, shoulders shaking from crying, when he felt Kihyun’s arms around his shoulders. Kihyun pulled him into a hug, and it felt good. It felt like he was being nestled into a cocoon, warm and safe and loved. He dropped his cheek onto Kihyun’s shoulder and sniffled.

“I’m sorry,” Kihyun whispered, rubbing Changkyun’s back and patting it like he was a baby. They both eased onto the couch like that, Changkyun curled up and nestled against Kihyun’s side, Kihyun rubbing soothing circles across Changkyun’s lower back. Changkyun wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that as his mind whirred with memories and thoughts. Kihyun shutting him out, Kihyun ignoring Changkyun’s calls and texts, Kihyun staring blankly at the wall when Changkyun confronted him about his cheating. But then there was also Kihyun and his brilliant smile, Kihyun picking Changkyun up after his classes, Kihyun making him soup and cookies and babying him when Changkyun was sick, Kihyun kissing him on the nose and telling him he loved him. 

The good outweighed the bad, right? Or did that really matter?

“I hurt you,” Changkyun said softly. “And you -- you hurt me. That doesn’t just go away.”

Kihyun sucked in a breath. He said, “I know, Kyunnie.”

“So where does that leave us?”

The hand rubbing soothing circles on Changkyun’s back stopped. It was quiet, only Kihyun’s breathing and heartbeat filling Changkyun’s ears. Kihyun shifted closer and kissed the top of Changkyun’s head. “I don’t know, I'm sorry.”

Changkyun stayed over. They ate dinner and spent the night on the couch together, too exhausted to move, not yet ready to fall back into bed.

.

Looking back on it, it wasn’t anybody’s fault that they drifted apart. Changkyun was finishing school, focused on his studies, and at the same time he was researching graduate programs and gearing up to apply for them. His goal was to enter Seoul National University’s prestigious engineering program, but he’d applied to many other engineering programs around the country also, just in case. For a few months, his future was up in the air, and it was all he could think about and talk about. 

Kihyun was recovering, still, and getting his feet back on the ground. His job was picking up and soon, the agency he worked for wanted to start sending him around the world on shoots. One weekend out of a month away from Seoul on a shoot turned into two weekends, turned into half a month away from home, on location, with just a couple of days to rest in between until his agency sent him on his next shoot. He was flourishing.

Changkyun liked to think he was flourishing, also. Though he hadn’t made it into Seoul National, he’d been accepted at Yonsei University and enrolled there, and his parents and friends were proud of him. Jooheon, in particular, liked to crow about Changkyun whenever they went for drinks with friends. 

So they drifted apart. That was okay. They were on different paths. Every once in a while when things were particularly hard, Changkyun liked to think about Kihyun and how he was doing. He’d check Kihyun’s social media feeds and leave comments or likes on his more recent photos. Kihyun traveled so much and so often that he barely had time to respond to anyone, but he would try to write back to Changkyun, and every few weeks Changkyun would get a short burst of notifications on his phone as Kihyun responded to all the notes Changkyun had left him over the past few weeks. Changkyun wondered if Kihyun read everything he wrote to him. 

He wondered if Kihyun ever thought about getting back together.

.

Changkyun heard about the exhibit opening through Facebook. It was called  _ Lost: Memories I Made and Made-Up _ . The title hooked him, and he hovered over it, then saw that many of his friends and people he knew from college were going to attend: Minhyuk, Hoseok, Hyunwoo, and even Jooheon and Soonyoung had noted they were interested. So he clicked.

Kihyun was pictured on the event page’s header. Well, Kihyun’s back. He was certain of it. Changkyun would recognize that silhouette anywhere -- the narrow line of his shoulders, his elegant neck, the shape of his head. The header was a photo of Kihyun sitting on a park bench and shot from behind, his silhouette backlit by the golden-hued light of the setting sun. The space next to him was empty, and it seemed intentional because the photo was off-center. 

He read through the information and blurb about the event. Kihyun was showing an exhibit at a small gallery downtown and was asking for local support. It was his first showing as a photographer: artist and he was very, very excited, especially to be sharing something so close to his heart with the people who would attend and visit. 

It had been almost a year since they last spoke face-to-face. Changkyun was sitting on the couch in his apartment, blanket over his lap and laptop over his thighs, something to pass the time on the television, and outside it had recently snowed. The sidewalks were covered in a sheet of fresh white powder that would soon turn into gray mush, but for a moment it was beautiful. The gallery was only a few blocks away, actually. He could walk there right now, just put on some boots and leave footprints in the snow, but Kihyun probably wouldn’t be there at this time anyway, especially since the exhibit opening was a week away.

Changkyun hastily exited the tab on his laptop. Then he took a deep breath, reopened it again, and sent a message to Jooheon.

.

The lights in the gallery were bright, spilling out across the sidewalk from huge, floor-to-ceiling windows that let everyone see what was going on inside. If he stared at the gallery for a few seconds and then turned his gaze skyward, the sky was such a complete darkness that Changkyun would get dizzy. But then he’d blink a few times, his eyes would adjust, and the sky would be the normal inky blue-purple, dotted with stars. Changkyun tightened his scarf around his neck as he stood in front of the windows, his breath turning into white clouds in front of him, and wished Jooheon would hurry up.

_ Be there in ten minutes! _  his friend’s last message declared, but that was fifteen minutes ago and he still hadn’t turned up. The deal had been that Jooheon would come with Changkyun to this event and help him bail if things got too weird, and in return Changkyun would be Jooheon’s wingman forever. It was a small price to pay.

Changkyun tapped his feet as he leaned his head back and accidentally hit it against the window, making a hollow  _ thunk!  _ sound that surely everyone inside had heard. He hissed, straightening and glancing around surreptitiously. There was a boy just outside the doorway smoking a cigarette between two elegant, long fingers. He was tall, and beautiful with his small face and exaggerated features. He was looking at Changkyun with one eyebrow dipped.

“You okay, buddy?” he asked. His voice was low and mellow. He sounded like he’d just woken up about five minutes ago.

“Fine,” Changkyun said, rubbing the back of his head. “Just waiting for my friend.”

“You could wait inside,” the stranger said. He nodded toward the door. “It’s warm in there, and there’s a cute boy passing around champagne.”

“I don’t feel like drinking,” Changkyun said, even though he did. Some liquid courage might have been just what he needed.

The other boy shrugged, one elegant movement of his shoulders. He flicked the cigarette out into the street, managing to make it look effortless and cool and not like he was destroying his lungs and littering. “Your loss,” he said, and then he headed back in.

When the door opened, a bubble of warm air and conversation gushed out, enticing Changkyun. His frozen toes and nose began to protest. He lasted another minute before rushing inside and shivering violently at the stark difference in temperature as his body adjusted.

It was indeed warm inside, and when Changkyun inhaled, the smell reminded him slightly of musty basements. He wandered deeper into the gallery, noticing rooms to the right that were labeled with the names of other exhibits. Kihyun’s exhibit was in the main room in the center, and a series of photographs were displayed along the white walls with a card to describe each piece next to it. Changkyun stopped at the first photograph. It had been taken near the Han Gang, on the walkway next to the water, and it showed a boy leaning down and cupping his hands in the river, the reflection of stars captured in his open palms. The photo was titled  _ Promise Me at Midnight _ .

The photo made Changkyun smile. It reminded him of how back in college, before Kihyun graduated, they used to go for walks along the river late at night to talk about everything and nothing. One night the lights had flickered out unexpectedly, plunging them into darkness, but Kihyun had taken his hand and told him to look for the stars in the water. They’d kissed that night by the river, and it was the first time Changkyun had told Kihyun he loved him.

Changkyun was interrupted in his memories when a boy walked by with a tray of champagne, offering it to Changkyun, whose eyes widened. “Hoseok-hyung?”

“Changkyun?” Hoseok gasped. The glasses on the tray he was holding wobbled dangerously. He was wearing a black dress shirt and black pants that hugged his muscular thighs. He looked good. “What are you -- are you here on purpose?”

“Um,” Changkyun said. “Yes.” He took a flute from Hoseok’s tray and downed the champagne in it in one long pull. It bubbled and fizzed on the way to his stomach. Then he burped. “Excuse me.”

“No problem,” Hoseok said, laughing a little bit. “Wow, I’m so glad you came. He was dying to invite you.”

“Who was?” Changkyun asked.

Hoseok gave him a look, squinting his eyes at Changkyun like he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. “Who do you think, buddy?”

That was when he saw him. Kihyun was standing near the very back of the room in front of a large photo, a small group of interested people around him, and his arm was around the waist of the stranger from outside.

Kihyun looked good. His hair was a gunmetal silver that shone in the bright gallery light, and his smile was dazzling. He looked happy as he laughed with the people around him, as the tall beautiful stranger laughed with him, too. They looked wonderful together. Kihyun was quite a bit shorter than the stranger but the height difference had an endearing quality to it, and the way the stranger looked at Kihyun while he spoke could move mountains.

Changkyun felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. It had been almost a year. What did Changkyun think would happen -- he’d show up and Kihyun would be single and hadn’t stopped thinking about him and they’d be able to get back together, just like that? 

Hoseok frowned and turned to look over his shoulder to where Changkyun’s gaze was focused. He turned back around and said, “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

“What?”

“To Kihyunnie,” Hoseok said. “Aren’t you going to say hello to him?”

“I don’t know,” Changkyun said. “I don’t want to -- bother him. Maybe I shouldn’t have come--”

“Don’t be silly,” Hoseok said. “Hey!” he called out happily, waving his free hand over in Kihyun’s direction. “Hey! Kihyunnie! Over here!”

Changkyun panicked and looked for the closest place where he could hide. Unfortunately the only thing he could hide behind was Hoseok’s larger frame, which he stepped behind as he tried to make himself as small as possible. It didn’t work. He only had to wait five seconds before Kihyun’s warm, beautiful voice reverberated in his ears.

“Changkyun?” Kihyun asked. 

“Oh, hi,” Changkyun said meekly, stepping out from behind Hoseok, who looked amused. The stranger had followed Kihyun, and raised one eyebrow again at Changkyun. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“At my exhibit opening?” Kihyun asked, grinning. His voice was so soft. His eyes were dazzling. Changkyun had missed him so, so much.

“Yeah,” Changkyun said. “I guess.” He wanted to melt when Kihyun reached out to hug him, the brief contact over within a few seconds, but it warmed him through and through. He felt like hot chocolate -- cozy and sweet and warm.

“Did you come with anyone?”

“I was supposed to come with Jooheon,” Changkyun said. He looked at his phone but saw no messages. “But at this point I think it’s fair to say he stood me up.”

“Who’s this guy?” the stranger asked. “He’s the one you keep talking about?”

Kihyun smacked the stranger on the arm, his cheeks flushing pink immediately. “Hyungwon! Shut up.”

Hyungwon laughed and slung his arm around Kihyun’s shoulders. “Well? Introduce me.”

Kihyun sighed, gesturing between them and saying in a deadpan voice, “Changkyun this is Hyungwon. Hyungwon, Changkyun.”

Hyungwon shook Changkyun’s hand. “We met in Japan,” Hyungwon explained. “I was trying to build my modeling career there and Kihyun was visiting his brother. And we just clicked, you know?”

Changkyun’s heart sank. He let go of Hyungwon’s hand. “What is, ah, your relationship?”

“Us?” Hyungwon asked. This time he raised both of his eyebrows. Damn but his face was expressive. “I model for Kihyun. That’s me in all the photos. Well, except for that one.” Hyungwon pointed at the one he and Kihyun had been standing in front of earlier, the big one in the center. Changkyun recognized it now as the full photo of what had been the event’s header image on Facebook. “He gets a top-notch model, I get more exposure. Win, win.”

“You’re also friends,” Hoseok chimed in.

“Yeah, I guess,” Hyungwon said.

“Hey!” Kihyun smacked his arm again, but he was laughing. He said to Changkyun, “Don’t worry. Hyungwon is all bark and no bite.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Changkyun joked. He was surprised he said it, and it dawned on him that it surprised Kihyun, too. Relief bubbled up in his chest. He laughed, and then they all began laughing, and then someone -- probably Hoseok, maybe Hyungwon -- nudged Kihyun forward and Kihyun nearly fell against Changkyun and Kihyun was saying, “Can I show you around?” and Changkyun was saying, “Yes.”

.

Kihyun gave him a personal tour of the exhibit, starting with  _ Promise Me at Midnight _ . All the photos had captured an ethereal quality about the moment in the shot. In each one, Hyungwon seemed to be waiting for something, or searching, or longing. The sense of loss was almost tangible. Changkyun wasn’t sure how Kihyun could convey such emotion in a single image, but each photo they passed brought on another wave of nostalgia and memory for Changkyun.

Changkyun loved listening to Kihyun’s stories, loved the way Kihyun spoke about each photo and how his eyes glittered as he recalled the shoot. He told Changkyun about the time Hyungwon made it difficult by being so moody for hours while they worked before confessing that he actually had a cold, after which Kihyun immediately took them both back to his place for soup and -- for Hyungwon -- a nap on his couch under three blankets. He told Changkyun about Japan and all the places he’d travelled to for his shoots: Brazil and South Africa and Thailand and Ireland and -- Missouri. And then Changkyun was sharing his own stories about graduation, and grad school, his new friends, his program, his family. 

The conversation flowed easily between them, and Changkyun barely noticed that Kihyun had brought them outside into the connecting backyard patio behind the gallery. The patio was small, perhaps only spanning back fifteen paces and just as wide, and it was sparsely lit, also, just residual light from the gallery reaching the farthest corners of the space. Changkyun could see a strip of grass between two columns of cobblestone, and at the end of the grassy path there was a bench facing the gallery. Kihyun brought them to it and they sat, still talking.

It reminded him of the photo in the center of Kihyun’s exhibit. They had stopped in front of it before coming outside. He could vividly recall the image of Kihyun’s back and the park bench and the setting sun. It was called  _ Losing Him Again _ .

And then Changkyun realized that the exhibit was about them. Changkyun and Kihyun. Their story, or how Kihyun remembered it. The space beside Kihyun in the photo was empty because Changkyun was meant to fill it. He remembered now, the photo on Kihyun’s dresser of them in the park, sitting side by side on the very same bench, smiling into the camera as they leaned against each other. Their promise to each other that day. This photo was its opposite.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Changkyun,” Kihyun said. He leaned forward onto his hands gripping the edge of the seat of the bench. “Are you okay?”

“It’s us,” Changkyun said. “The photos. The story. It’s us.”

Kihyun bit into his lower lip, looking shy and uncertain. He nodded and said in a small voice, “Yeah.”

“Why?” Changkyun asked before he could stop himself.

Kihyun stared into the gallery where all his guests were still roaming and chatting. They could hear murmurs of conversation where they were sitting, but nothing more. “When you left,” Kihyun said, “I had a lot of time to think. I reflected. I processed. All the memories came back all jumbled and I had to sort them out in a way that made sense. This...exhibit was the only way for me to do that.”

Changkyun turned slightly to him, closing the distance between them, and Kihyun didn’t retreat. He could see the flecks of lighter and darker brown in his eyes from the glare of light given off by the gallery, the beauty mark under his eye. “And what do you make of it?” 

Kihyun closed his eyes and swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down. He said, eyes still closed, “That I love you. That I’ll always love you, I think. That I hurt you really bad and you probably shouldn’t forgive me but if you do, if you give me another chance I’ll make it up to you over lifetimes.”

Changkyun was quiet. He felt like his heart was beating in his throat, expanding in his chest. He was buoyant. He felt like the starlight cupped between the boy by the river’s palms. “You didn’t have to make a whole exhibit about us, you know? You could have just -- talked to me.”

Kihyun laughed bitterly and opened his eyes. “I was too scared. After that night at my apartment, I didn’t know how to -- start over. I'd never done that before. And then it was easy to just ignore it. We were both busy, and I just...I don’t know, Changkyun. This seemed easier?”

“This seemed easier,” Changkyun repeated incredulously. There was a touch of wonder in his voice. Kihyun was a romantic at heart, and he was stubborn, too. Changkyun remembered it all, now. They were sitting closer together, their smallest fingers touching on the bench, and then Changkyun’s hand was hovering over Kihyun’s as though drawn like a magnet. Kihyun’s eyes flickered to Changkyun’s hand, and the photographer nodded. Whether to give Changkyun’s hand permission or to agree with Changkyun, neither were certain.

“What about you?” Kihyun whispered. “What do you make of it?” He moved so minutely but it made all the difference. Changkyun made contact. Hand on hand. He let it rest there as a flush rose to Kihyun’s cheeks again.

“I think…” Changkyun began slowly, watching Kihyun for his tiny reactions to every word he said. “I’ve been waiting a year in limbo, thinking about us, not sure how to move forward. All I know is that I’ve missed you.” He paused, gaze flicking down to Kihyun's lips. "And that I still love you."

“I’ve missed you, too,” Kihyun said. "I still love you, too." Tears welled in his eyes and trailed down his cheeks as they looked at each other and saw the other person completely, their happiest memories, their past mistakes, their paths forward, everything rolled into one. It made them whole. The distance closed between them even though neither could be certain if the other moved, and Changkyun’s palms cupped Kihyun’s cheeks so that he could draw him in for a kiss.

The moment their lips touched Changkyun could feel the earth move under his feet. When he pulled back, he felt like time had frozen. Kihyun looked so beautiful, like the first time he saw him, like every time he saw him. Changkyun smiled. “Hi,” he whispered.

Kihyun smiled, too. He said, “Hi.”

.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 comments are appreciated <3
> 
> i think i tagged everything. if there's anything you think i should have tagged, please let me know! 
> 
> thank you g for being my guinea pig <3
> 
> i'm also on [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/yayawrites)!


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